


Fins

by ThisShallNeverBeMentioned



Series: Hands Like Waves Over Me [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, Mer!Michael, mermaid!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-07 20:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisShallNeverBeMentioned/pseuds/ThisShallNeverBeMentioned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's more that lies beneath the waves..</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fins

 

Drowning…

 

I’m drowning…

 

There’s air in my lungs, but it’s growing stale; I need to breathe, but all I can taste is salt. The water feels heavy, like syrup as I sink through it, and I can’t move my arms in the right way. I’ve tried kicking, but when I first went under my foot connected with rock, sharp and jagged, and I felt my skin rip open along the top of it. The icy water froze my muscles, and I lost feeling. Now I’m so weighed down I can hardly move.

I don’t know which direction is up anyway.

My throat and nose are still burning, and I’m trying not to breathe but taking in water anyway. I open my eyes, and it’s never been so hard. The salt water stings them, and everything’s a blur of blue and dark.

A seizure hits me and I cough, accidentally expelling the last of my air, my reflexes trying to suck in something to replace the space and taking nothing but water. Blood vessels burst in my eyes, my head is pounding, and my lungs burn and choke, but at least the pain is numbed.

That’s the thing about water, about the ocean; it’s soothing, calming, it holds you gently, even when it’s invading you lungs and your mind. It kills you kindly.

All I see is blue, and dark, and red.

 

 

  

 

 \\\\\/ _//_  


  

 

 

I’m dying.

Or I’m dead. Not sure which.

I still ache and burn all over, so maybe I’m not dead if I can feel pain. I’m also bloody freezing, and once I think about the cold, I’m aware of my body shaking, shivering uncontrollably. And my heart thudding erratically, but loudly, in my chest.

Oh, good.

I want to open my eyes, take inventory, but they feel stuck together and my eyelids are heavy. Apart from the shaking, I can’t really move. My body’s numb, I’ve got a killer headache, an aching foot, and everytime I take a breath it sounds like a death rattle.

But I’m not dead.

I’m lying on rocks, I think. Something cold and hard and wet, anyway. It’s fairly smooth, but not exactly comfortable, and I’m positive that half of the cold that’s set into my bones is seeping up through the stone.

Something warm covers my foot, there are several pinpricks along it, and the pain lessens a bit, no longer stinging from the salt and the cold air, something soft and wet left sitting atop it.

The warmth moves, I can feel it all up one side, but nothing’s touching me. It’s like I’m lying beside a fire, the waves of heat fluttering, rolling over me.

A hand touches my chest, palm pressing heavy over my heart.

It’s so warm, and my shivering disappears almost completely, dissipated by the heat coming from the hand. I want to curl up into it, but my body is still numb and so heavy that all I can do is take in air through my raw throat.

I struggle to concentrate, and this time I manage to open my eyes, just a little.

For a second, all I see is blue, dark, and red, and the familiarity sends a shock of panic through me.

Then everything swims into focus, and I’m looking at a face surrounded by matted and curly reddish hair, and yellow eyes with vertical slit pupils are staring back at me.

 

I’m about to open my mouth, to try and speak, but another hand grabs my jaw, twisting my head from side to side as the yellow eyes appraise me. I manage to get a glimpse at the blue and green of the dim cave, the sharp and shiny rocks that surround me, and the blue light that must be reflecting off water, bouncing over the ceiling.

My head is pulled to face forward again, and there’s something strange about the rough hand on my face, but I can’t quite figure it out, and then a finger and thumb forces my mouth open, probes at my lips and my teeth, and I gag. The hand pulls back abruptly, and I’m able to focus on the face above me again, frowning in confusion.

There’s a small pause as yellow eyes lock with mine, unblinking, and I study the pupils, wide in the dim light, like a cat’s eye, especially with the gold flecks surrounding it. The hand waves back and forth in front of my face, and I blink, see the thin web stretching between fingers and thumb, just below the fingertips. It drops, and I focus back on yellow eyes, on the mouth that’s opening over sharp looking teeth-

“Dude.”

His voice echoes in the cave, half worried, half amused, and… American?

“Human, you okay? Can you hear me?”

I nod, eyes wide. He leans back a little, looking satisfied. His hand is still resting on my chest, warm and heavy.

“I got it right, yeah? You’re human?”

Nod again, but it’s jerky as I try to wrap my head around his words.

“Hard to tell sometimes, ya see?” He shrugs a shoulder and I notice that he’s shirtless, and there are small dots of orange on the skin at his shoulder, almost like freckles, but shiny and raised. “Nyx often make themselves look human, don’t know why, you lot are pretty dull to look at. Hey, eyes up here.”

I snap my head up guiltily. I’d been staring at his ribs, or rather, the strange reddish cuts on his ribs. They wrapped around his sides, three on each, and when he breathed they moved, the raised skin fluttering, covering and uncovering the red muscle underneath. Gills, I realised belatedly.

He’s glaring down at me, and I try to keep eye contact, despite the horrible claustrophobic feeling of being practically pinned down on my back by… whatever he is. Because he’s not human, that much is clear, and I don’t know whether that puts me in danger or not. My pulse is racing, and I know he can feel it, with his hand over my heart, and I wonder  _what now_   _what now._

I finally look away from his eyes, swallowing hard even though it tears at my throat, and try to look at the cave, casting my gaze around at the small alcove we’re in. There’s a bend in the rock at one end, which might be a passageway, but it’s surrounded by water, lapping at the walls. We’re on the only horizontal raised rock in the small cave, from what I can see; the water wells up along the sloping part of rock beside my feet and-

Oh.

Even in the dim light, I can make out the vivid orange, almost golden forked tail, each half as long as my arm and edged in ruffled see-through fins. Red scales lead up along it and onto the main body of the tail, two more little fins are closed up along the sides, and up further the tail is vivid reflective red and gold, until the scales peter out and give way to pale skin. It’s resting just below the surface of the water, shimmering, as he sits in the shallow water that laps at the sloping edges of the rock.

I’m uneasy, reluctant to look up again, now that I’ve seen, and in one way I don’t want to look away from the tail, because it’s mesmerising, and I almost want to reach out and touch, but then the fins twitch and he clears his throat, and my gaze snaps up again.

He’s looking at me curiously, and I catch his tail shifting out of the corner of my eye. Then his lips stretch in a smile, pointed teeth glinting, and he very deliberately flaps his tail.

“I’m guessing you’ve never seen someone like me before, huh?” It sounds like he’s teasing.

I swallow, and rasp out my first words, quiet with awe, “You’re a mermaid.”

He snorts, and I startle at the sound. “Fuck off. Do I look like a fucking girl to you?”

“Uh-”

“If you say yes, I will  _end_  you.”

A small laugh escapes up out of my mouth, and I wince at the raw burn it leaves behind. “A merman, then.” I amend.

“I’m a  _Neried_. At least get the term right.” He smiles again, shaking some of his hair out of his eyes. “We adopted your word for yourselves, human, it’s the least you can do to use ours.”

He’s looking expectantly at me, so I repeat the word, trying to mimic his pronunciation. “Nee-ree-id?”

“Close enough.” He nods. “But call me Michael.”

“…Your name’s Michael?”

He quirks an eyebrow at my surprised tone, and his eyes narrow. “Yeah,  _Michael_. Got a problem?”

“It’s just…” I’m trying not to laugh, because two more fins have fanned out from under his hair, around where his ears should be.  “Michael’s not a very mer- Neried-y name.”

“And you’re an expert, are you?” He scoffs. “What’s yours then?”

“Gavin Free.”

“Well that’s not a very  _human-y_  name.” He replies, not skipping a beat. “Sounds more like the name for a Pobel Vean. They’re pesky little assholes.”

“Oi!” I can’t keep the smile off my face. “Okay, okay, Michael’s a very lovely name.”

Michael chuckles, the sound bubbly. “And Gavin’s still a dumb name, but hey, at least it suits you.”

I start to make a retort, but he takes his hand away from my chest abruptly, and I’m distracted by the sudden loss of pressure. The heat is still there, and I slowly realise that it’s spread all over my body, leaving me warm despite still feeling damp, and I can move now, so I struggle upwards until I’m sitting, leaning against the rock at my back. When I look down at my feet, I can see the small patch of what looks like moss, covering the red cuts that cross all the way from my toes to my ankle.

“So, Gavin.” Michael’s saying, stretching his arms above his head. His gills flex over his ribs, and his tail fins flap lightly in the water, sending ripples out across the small pool of the cave. “What beach were you at when you went into the water?”

I wrench my gaze away from his tail and back up to his face, perplexed. “Huh?”

“So I can take you back there?” Michael looks at me, leaning back on his webbed hands. “I assume you want to go home?”

I open my mouth, and close it again. Truthfully, right now, the fact that this is real, that Michael is real, that I’m sitting in a water cave with a mermaid is so incredible that the thought of leaving hadn’t even crossed my mind. Now that I think of it, I do want to; I want to go home, to get dry and get my foot properly bandaged and change into clean clothes.

But.

“If I go back to shore,” I say carefully. “Can I come, uh, visit you?”

Michael raises an eyebrow, studying my face with a frown. “You want to visit.” He deadpans.

“Well-”

“Gavin, no offense, but humans and Nerieds aren’t really the best of friends. Hence why we’re not common knowledge.” He grimaces, and I notice his earfins flare out again. “We’re just overgrown mutant fish to you.”

“What? No you’re not!” I protest, propping myself up against the rock better so I can fully turn and look at him. “You’re… different, but that’s not bad. Life’s boring if everything’s the same.”

Michael looks a bit amused, but the downward pull on his smile is still there. “I appreciate the sentiment, but not everyone thinks so.”

“But-”

“ _Gavin_.” His voice rumbles out, low in his throat, and it echoes around the cave. “ _No._ ”

He’s glaring at me again, but this time, I scrunch up my nose, and settle back against the rock, arms crossed over my chest. We stare each other down for a minute; he doesn’t seem to need to blink as often as I do, and I make a mental note never to try to start a staring contest with him.

Finally, he sighs and scratches at his head, fingers snagging on his curls. “Look-”

“I thought we were friends.”

He stares. “Gavin, we literally just met.”

“You saved my life.” I point out.

“Yeah! But it’s not like I could let you drown right in front of me.” He’s getting exasperated, I can tell, but I’m not about to back down.

“I wouldn’t tell anyone about you.” I try, but he just snorts again.

“Like anyone’d believe you anyway.” He fixes me with another look. “Out of all of the stories you’ve heard about us, about ‘mermaids’, how much did you think was true?”

I can’t answer that, because I know he knows the answer: none of it.

Now, with the living proof in front of me, it’s so much easier to believe, to look at the scales adorning his skin and his slitted eyes and his tail resting in the water…

He fingers close over my wrist and I jump, look up. I hadn’t realised I’d been reaching towards his tail, but now I take in his almost outraged expression, pupils turned to slits, and the hard grip on my wrist and I almost flinch.

“What the fuck, man?” I’m not trying to reach out anymore, but his fingers tighten around my wrist. “You trying to grope me when we’ve only just met?”

“Sorry, I didn’t know-” I look down and try to tug my hand away. “Michael, let go, I’m sorry, okay?”

I meet his eyes again, and I’m startled at the suddenly soft gaze, his pupils normal again as they move over my face. The way he changes so suddenly from anger to calm is bewildering, and it’s enough to make me think that he simply puts on the tough act for show. He loosens his fingers, but leaves his hand hovering over mine for a second before he pulls away, sits back, and there’s the sound of the heaving and splashing of water, and suddenly his tail is across my legs. The water streams off his scales, and it’s soaking my jeans all over again, but I’m too focused on the weight, the heat, and I glance hurriedly at Michael.

He’s grinning at me, pointed teeth resting over his bottom lip. He shrugs, and wiggles his tail in my lap. “Go on then.”

 

My eyes must be wide as saucers as I turn back. It’s a paradox that his tail is so warm, expelling so much heat, and yet the water that runs off it is freezing, icy. Carefully, slowly, I hover my hand, and then touch the scales with the tips of my fingers. His whole tail twitches once, then stills and I let my hand fall completely to the skin, run my palm along it. The scales are smoother in one direction than the other, running down towards the tailfins, almost like glass or paper. Curiously, I prod, and the flesh gives a little.

Michael lets out a muffled sound and I look up quickly. He’s got his hand over his mouth, leaning on one arm, and when he catches my gaze, he removes his hand and murmurs, “Ticklish.”

I let out a small laugh, and turn my attention back to my lap. The little transparent fins near the end of his tail are fluttering, fanning out and then closing in again, almost subconsciously, and I reach out a finger to touch them. They keep fluttering, but slower, and they’re so soft. And thin, barely thicker than a piece of paper, but more malleable, like silk, when I lightly pinch one between my finger and thumb. Michael makes another noise, and I smile, do it again, and the fins twitch in my grasp. He’s obviously very ticklish, so I stop and move on.

The tailfin is similar to the smaller fins, but thicker, and it’s not covered in the same scales as the rest of the tail. It’s slippery, not just because it’s wet, and there are grooves along it, reaching from the inside curve to the outer transparent fins. I run my finger along one, lightly touch the frilled fins, and then follow the larger scales back up the main tail. It’s still so incredible, like something from a movie, a prosthetic costume. I rest both hands on the tail, and continue to follow the scales up, feel the roughness of them from rubbing the wrong way.

I stop just before I get to Michael’s skin, and slowly follow the fish skin and scales with my fingertips as they give way to pale, human flesh, just by his hipbones. The scales scatter up higher in front to his belly button, which is a bit confusing, because I never thought mermaids had belly buttons. My eyes travel up to his gills again, and I’m tempted to touch them too, but Michael’s hands find mine, hold them still.

“Okay.” I look up at his voice, much quieter than before, and he’s got his eyes scrunched closed. He breathes out heavily, once, twice. “Okay. Enough.”

He opens his eyes, and I tense as I take in his expression and feel his hands close tighter about mine. His pupils are blown out almost completely, hardly any of the yellow gold of his iris visible.

“Gavin.” His voice is throaty, and I shiver involuntarily. His eyes flick down to our hands, resting by his stomach, and up again.

In one swift movement, he lets go of my hands, and falls backwards, his tail flicking back out of my lap and following him as he goes into the water. There’s barely a splash, and automatically I move to get up, sucking in a breath when I move my foot and some of the moss falls off. The cuts across the top are deep and red, and they’ve stopped bleeding, but when I try to move the pain shoots up my leg, so I sit still.

When I look over, Michael’s floating in the water, head and shoulders out. It’s too dark for me to see his tail, but I can still see the scales on his shoulders and his earfins amid his wet hair.

“Which beach?” he asks.

I blink, open my mouth, and then shut it stubbornly. “Only if you promise that I can see you again.”

He rolls his eyes and sinks under the water and out of sight. There aren’t any bubbles, and I try not to worry about his air supply when I remember his gills.

Freezing water hits me from my other side in a wave, and I have to grab onto the rock, spluttering and blinking it out of my eyes. Michael’s grinning at me from the water on the other side of the rock, and his tail flaps at the water once, sending out a last little splash.

Then he swims a little closer, half lifts himself out of the water and holds out a hand. “Deal.”

I smile happily, and reach out to take his hand, feel the web between his finger and thumb, and the warmth in his palm against mine.

 

He grins again, lets go, and pulls himself up till he’s sitting on the rock beside my knees. Carefully, he peels the remains of the moss off my foot, frowns at the redness, and looks back up at me, scrunching up his nose in concentration. Then he puts a hand under my knees, and another behind my back, and I’m about to protest, but he lifts me easily, careful not to knock my foot, and slides slowly back into the water, his tail beating beneath and keeping us floating.

The water’s still icy, but Michael’s body is warm, almost hot, and it keeps my body temperature at a happy medium. I let an arm fall across his shoulders to help hold myself up, and my fingers find the scales on his shoulder, run across the smooth flakes set into his skin.

“Hold your breath.” He whispers against my cheek, and I glance at him.

He’s smiling, but looks serious, and after scanning the cave again I realise that there’s no other discernable way out. So I quickly take in a large gulp of air and hold it in my cheeks, tightening my grip on his shoulders and shutting my eyes as the water wells up around us.

Michael chuckles softly, and just before we sink under the water he murmurs, “Let’s get you home.”

 


End file.
